


eunhae | no place like home

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Series: 1+1=Love | Donghae x Eunhyuk [6]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: EunHae, Fluff, Gen, eunhae are the softest, like always, non-au, soft pups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: Hyukjae's coming back from Switzerland, and Donghae doesn't want him to come home to an empty house.





	eunhae | no place like home

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to [California Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086275).

In Donghae’s opinion, there’s nothing worse than coming home to an empty house. He’s done it far too many times lately, and every time it seems to get worse, especially after coming off of a fun schedule or nice vacation. 

The more he thinks about it, the more he can’t believe that he actually owns his own apartment. Growing up, he’d always shared a room with his brother before moving into the dorms filled first with trainees, then members. He hadn’t had his own room in the dormitories either: he’d liked sharing a room, and the solo rooms got snatched up quickly anyways. After his military discharge, he and Hyukjae had briefly discussed living together but had settled on buying apartments in the same building instead. It’d be good to have their own spaces, they’d decided.

But Donghae… Donghae doesn’t need his own space. He likes having his life overlap with someone else’s: he likes seeing another toothbrush in the cup by the sink, likes doing the laundry with clothes that aren’t all his, likes knowing that someone else inhabits this space they call home. To be quite honest, Donghae feels the most loved when others spend time with him and well… Donghae loves to be loved.

He remembers the early days after their debut when they were all crammed into dorms far too small for the thirteen of them. They’d had to share rooms, share bathrooms, share clothes, and even share the shower when they had twenty minutes to get ready and thirteen boys to two bathrooms. The other members had all groused on more than one occasion about their cramped conditions, but Donghae had loved it. There had always been at least one person around to talk with, to hug, to share a life with.

He still remembers the day that Kibum moved out. Everyone else had seen it coming for awhile: he never came back to the dorms, he never went to schedules with them, and nobody ever seemed to know where he was. Yet it had still hurt walking into his room to find his things completely gone without explanation. Donghae had cried a lot that day, and goodbyes had only gotten harder since then.

Donghae finishes his schedules for the day, and he lets himself into Hyukjae’s apartment to await his return from Switzerland. He had gone back to his own apartment first only to find the silence stifling and his fridge empty, so he’d gone out for groceries and laundry detergent first. He knows Hyukjae will probably be wiped from the long-haul flight back from Europe; after all, he’d practically gone straight to bed when he’d returned from Spain the week before. 

The air in Hyukjae’s apartment is stale from being closed up for so long. Donghae cracks open the windows to let in some fresh air before stripping the bed sheets to toss them into the wash. The dirty clothes and pajamas in the hamper will be next. He knows Hyukjae likes to be clean, and there’s nothing like coming home from a long flight to clean pajamas and clean sheets.

It’s comforting, Donghae thinks, to be in Hyukjae’s apartment, even when he’s not there. He spends about as much time here as in his own apartment anyways, unless they’re off bothering Teuk-hyung in his apartment, also located in the same building. He’d moved out first, of course, with Hyukjae and Donghae following a few years later. 

Donghae makes himself a smoothie with the blender that had mysteriously appeared at Hyukjae’s one day. He’d asked him about it, and Hyukjae had just shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant.  _ “Now you don’t have to rush out in the mornings to make your disgusting green goop,” _ he’d said, referring to Donghae’s strawberry-kale concoctions.

A duplicate of the espresso machine he had at his own apartment had appeared next, and Donghae’s heart had almost exploded out of his chest. It was something so simple, yet the message it had conveyed had been meaningful:  _ I want to spend more time with you. I want you here, invading my space and my life. _

“Invading” is definitely the word that Hyukjae will use to describe Donghae’s constant presence if asked, but he says it with such fondness that render all of his complaints moot. 

Donghae folds the laundry and remakes the bed while humming miscellaneous notes, trying to inspire his next composition. He’ll stop every so often to record a bit on his phone He’s composing more these days, and he likes it. The company has approached him about writing for other artists but… but the thing he likes most about writing for his group is that he knows each member and their vocal colors. It’s easy to write for the people he knows the best in the world.

When Hyukjae walks in the front door, dragging his suitcase behind him, Donghae is just finishing up the last bit of laundry. He has everything neatly stacked on the coffee table and looks up to see a very bedraggled Hyukjae standing in the foyer, blinking at him. “What are you doing here?” he asks softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Welcome home,” Donghae says, standing up and opening his arms.

Hyukjae walks into Donghae’s embrace and sags against him. He smells like air travel: in need of a shower, some toothpaste, and a proper change of clothes. Yet Donghae holds him close all the same, breathing an audible sigh of relief at having him back in his arms. Hyukjae chuckles. “What?”

“I’m glad you’re back,” Donghae says.

Hyukjae gives him one last squeeze before pulling back. “I literally FaceTimed you yesterday.”

Donghae grins sheepishly. “It’s not the same.”

“True.” Hyukjae looks over at the stacks of clean clothes. “You did the laundry?”

Donghae shrugs. “I’ll even make you dinner.”

Hyukjae eyes him suspiciously. “What did you break?”

“Nothing!” Donghae says, holding his hands up in mock protest. 

“What do you want?”

“I mean if you’re asking, there are a few shirts I have my eye on, but…”

“Not. A. Chance,” Hyukjae says with a grin. They’ve had this argument before.

Donghae pushes Hyukjae gently towards the shower. “You stink. I’ll start dinner.”

Hyukjae does as he’s told, and Donghae heads into the kitchen. He washes some rice and starts the rice cooker before pulling ingredients out of the fridge. He hears the shower start in the background and smiles to himself. He has a good chunk of time before Hyukjae will reappear. There’s nothing like a long, hot shower after traveling. 

Donghae pulls a pan, a cutting board, and some seasonings out of the cabinets. He’s mildly surprised that Hyukjae has what he needs, but he supposes that he’s brought enough items over in all the times he’s cooked for Hyukjae. He sets about chopping the onion, wiping tears from his eyes at their sting. He slices the chicken, mixes dashi powder in with water to form a broth, and combines all of the different seasonings into a mixing cup. He’d decided to make  [ oyakodon ](https://www.justonecookbook.com/oyakodon/) : a simple recipe that he’d learned during their various stints in Japan. It’s easy, it’s filling, and it’s warm.

The shower and the rice cooker shut off at the same time, and Donghae fluffs up the rice. He feels warm hands slide around his waist and a warm body presses against him from behind. Donghae twists around to face Hyukjae, pulling him close once more. 

“Do I smell better?” Hyukjae murmurs.

“Much,” Donghae replies, sticking his nose into Hyukjae’s damp hair for good measure. He smells like shampoo, and Donghae tells him so.

They stand like that for a few minutes, comfortable in the silence. It’s rare to find Hyukjae so desperate for affection; he nestles his chin in the crook of Donghae’s neck and hums contentedly as Donghae strokes his back. 

Eventually, they let go, and Donghae starts making dinner. He tosses half of the onions into the pan, followed by half of the seasoned liquid. Half the chicken follows, and he covers the pan before cracking and separating the eggs. 

“What are you making?” Hyukjae asks, sticking a set of chopsticks into the rice to test it. 

“Oyakodon, that stuff we always have in Japan.”

Hyukjae’s face lights up despite his tiredness. “Perfect.”

“Tell me about Switzerland,” Donghae says as he stirs the chicken.

Hyukjae grabs a bottle of vitamin water out of the fridge and leans against the counter opposite Donghae. “It was fun,” he says. Donghae listens as Hyukjae tells him all about filming, about traveling, about his co-stars, about meeting fans, about the food. “The city hasn’t changed at all since we were there,” he says. 

Donghae smiles at the memory. He remembers running through the streets of Zurich in the dark, waiting for Leeteuk’s train to get in from the airport. They’d somehow managed to make it to their rented flat in Bern without much trouble before spending the next few days filming in the rain. Donghae mainly remembers two things: the cold and the coffee. Every morning, he’d paid an exorbitant amount of money for an americano (for him) and a hot choco (for Hyukjae). 

He also remembers taking the ferry across the lake and the tram up the mountain. They’d stood on the peak, looking out at the Alps stretching as far as the eye could see. Donghae had filled up his camera roll with photos of the scenery and of the three of them. Then they’d stood there and yelled into the open air, Leeteuk calling for the other members and shouting encouragement to the two of them.

They’d gone back to their flat after that. Hyukjae and Donghae had made dinner, and they’d all laughed uproariously. It had honestly felt less like a business trip and more like a family trip to Donghae, like the trips he and his brother could have taken with their dad before he’d passed if they’d had the money. Leeteuk had gone to bed before them, and they’d teased him about being old. The two of them had gone back to the room they’d shared to pour through Donghae’s photos. 

It had been nice: sorting through photos on his computer with Hyukjae leaning against his side, playing a game on his phone. They hadn’t even argued when the staff had them sharing a room. They had somehow ended up spending the night in each other’s rooms so often throughout the years that it nearly seemed weird to have it any other way. 

By now, Hyukjae’s dinner is ready, and Donghae pours the chicken-onion-egg mixture over a bowl of rice and sets it in front of him. He eyes it greedily before looking around. “You’re not eating?”

Donghae holds up the cutting board of raw chicken. “You have to make the portions separately.”

They spend dinner looking through Hyukjae’s photos, the ones he hadn’t already sent Donghae anyways. There’s one of Hyukjae staring at the biggest cup--it’s a bowl, really--of hot choco, and Donghae can’t help but laugh. 

“I should move to Switzerland,” Hyukjae says. “The hot choco is unbelievable.” He leans back to stretch, not even trying to suppress his yawn. He looks exhausted, and without his usual celebrity makeup, the circles under his eyes are quite dark.

Hyukjae insists on helping him tidy up the dishes, arguing that he needs to stay awake just a little bit longer to better adjust to Korean Standard Time. He asks Donghae about life back in Korea while he’d been away, and Donghae doesn’t have much to share. He talks about the new compositions he’s been working on and Donghwa’s plans for Haru. 

“He’s thinking of expanding,” Donghae says. 

“He should put one in Japan,” Hyukjae says. “Then you can go when we’re abroad.”

Donghae thinks that’s not a bad idea. 

Hyukjae manages to stay awake for a little bit longer before he starts nodding off in his chair. Donghae gently pulls him to his feet and guides him into bed. Hyukjae allows himself to be tucked in, a sleepy smile on his face. Hyukjae gets sappy when he’s sleepy.

“You’re staying, right?” Hyukjae asks.

“Why do you think I washed your gross sheets?” Donghae replies with a smile. 

Hyukjae just  _ tsk _ s at him, and Donghae gets ready for bed. He’s not especially tired; after all, he hadn’t spent all day on an airplane. But he washes up and changes into pajamas before crawling into bed next to Hyukjae. He turns off the light and shifts onto his side, facing Hyukjae. In the dark, he feels Hyukjae scoot closer to him, and he reaches out to pull his body flush against his own. One arm goes under Hyukjae’s neck, the other around his waist, until they’re comfortably nestled against each other. It’s cozy, and Donghae is content.

Hyukjae falls asleep almost immediately in his arms, and it reminds Donghae of their younger days when it never took anyone longer than five minutes to fall asleep. Hyukjae’s been working a lot these days. He likes it, which is good, but Donghae wants to ensure he’s not working himself too hard. They don’t have to run full throttle into the wind anymore; they’ve earned a little bit of rest.

To his surprise, Donghae feels his eyelids growing heavy. The combination of a full stomach, a warm Hyukjae, and the dark room are putting him to sleep, and he doesn’t fight it. He can always use some more sleep. 

It’s moments like these, in the dark and quiet, that Donghae thinks he likes the most. Invading Hyukjae’s apartment, Hyukjae’s space, and Hyukjae’s life. He likes that their lives overlap. It’s been that way for the past fifteen years, and Donghae thinks that they couldn’t unravel their lives from each other even if they tried. He’s like it that way: he likes being so entangled in the lives and hearts of those he loves the most.

Donghae calms his breathing so that it becomes slow and methodical like Hyukjae’s, and soon sleep overtakes him as well. And his very last thought before falling asleep is just him wondering if they overlap in their dreams as well.

Just like how their dreams of becoming singers overlapped in real life.

_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love ♡
> 
> Also the recipe referenced in the fic is from [Just One Cookbook](https://www.justonecookbook.com/oyakodon/).
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/plincess_cho) / [tumblr](http://plincess-cho.tumblr.com/)


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